4
Much bigger.That scared me.That tugged at me.What were my stakes? I took a deep breath and looked around my apartment. It was pretty empty, I realized. Not as spartan as Steve's bedroom, but still. Utilitarian furniture accumulated in bits and pieces through my college years. The scatter of books and papers and a few houseplants. My prized hockey possession—the autographed Joe Sakic jersey from the 2001 Stanley Cup Championship Season hanging framed on the wall. I wondered what Red Wings memorabilia Steve had tucked away.My eyes fell on the pictures on top of the bookcase. Vickie and me on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Sandy, in full hockey gear, holding the trophy she'd won that year in high school.And Dad.God I missed him.When I was a kid, he'd take us to the park just about every weekend. That turned into ski trips and hikes as we got older, until he was too sick to go. When I was ten, he took us to my first hockey game—the University of Denver versus Minnesota. I was. Seven.Twelve.Eighteen.Twenty-two.Twenty-five.Twenty-six.Thirty.Thirty-six.Forty-one.Forty-three.Forty-seven.Damn. Are there four or five people there?Shit. Which was the last window I counted?Wow! Two more people have joined my original woman.The excitement of the size of the crowd that is looking at me has, unfortunately, has a side effect. My breathing has grown shallow and rapid. My face is flushing. Worse, my cock is beginning to thicken.Oh shit! If I get hard they will know that I am doing this on purpose. That what they are seeing is not an accidental sighting.I have had this happen during previous flashes so I know that I can not stop it. Embracing what I know is inevitable, I begin to touch myself. With the excitement of the size of the crowd, as well as my touching, the inescapable happens and my audience is soon looking at me with a rock hard erection.As I stand there pretending to text, I flex my groin muscles so that my erection seems to pulse. I also move my feet.
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